Chapter 3

On the second day after my C-section, I finally managed to drag myself out of bed with my mom's help.

The incision burned like fire. Every step felt like walking on glass.

But I had to see my baby.

My mom pushed me in a wheelchair to the NICU doors.

Through the thick glass, I saw my son.

He was so tiny, so fragile. His skin was bright red, and he looked like a helpless little kitten.

There was a breathing tube in his nose, an IV in his tiny arm, and his little chest rose and fell with a struggle.

The label on the incubator read: Baby Boy of Sloane Adler.

The space for the father's name was completely blank.

Tears poured down my face. I pressed my palm against the glass, wishing I could feel his warmth.

I'm so sorry, sweetie. Mommy didn't protect you... I whispered in my heart.

Ping.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I wiped my tears and pulled it out. It was a notification from Instagram. Chloe had posted a new update.

It was a photo of a lavish French dinner at the most exclusive revolving restaurant in the city.

In the corner of the frame, a man's hand was visible, wearing the limited-edition Patek Philippe watch I had gifted Nathan.

The caption read: The best dinner after the storm. Thank you for the treat, Boss Nathan.

P.S. I was too scared of the thunder on the mountain last night to sleep, but having him around makes me feel so safe.

She added a playful winking emoji at the end.

Staring at the photo, my stomach churned with intense disgust.

So, this was the "massive pitch meeting" Nathan had to attend. He was treating Chloe to French cuisine.

While he enjoyed fine wine and steak, basking in the adoration of a young girl, I was sitting in a hospital smelling of bleach, watching our premature son fight for his life.

Five years of devotion. It was all a pathetic joke.

Just then, a nurse walked over with a stack of bills.

"Ms. Adler, we have the daily bill for the NICU."

"Since we used a specialized, non-insurance-covered drug to help his lungs mature, the cost is quite high. You need to pay an out-of-pocket deposit of $50,000 at the billing department."

My mom took the slip, her face falling.

The emergency surgery and initial deposit had wiped out her savings.

Most of my money was tied up in long-term investments, and my checking account didn't have much liquid cash left.

"Sloane... should I call Nathan? It’s his baby too..." Mom suggested hesitantly.

"No," I cut her off coldly.

I unlocked my phone and dialed Julian, my former college mentor and the managing partner of a top venture capital firm.

"Sloane?" Julian’s deep, steady voice came through.

"Julian, sorry to bother you," I said, keeping my voice as calm as possible. "I had an emergency delivery. I’m in the hospital."

"I’m ready to license the core patent for my new battery technology to your firm under my personal LLC. But I need an immediate advance on the royalties."

Silence fell over the line for two seconds. Then, Julian’s voice turned incredibly serious.

"What happened? Which hospital are you in? I’ll have my team wire the funds immediately."

In less than ten minutes, my phone chimed. A wire transfer of $500,000 had hit my account.

I handed the phone to my mom.

"Mom, go pay the bill. From now on, the baby and I have absolutely nothing to do with Nathan."

My mom saw the sheer determination in my eyes, sighed, and walked toward the billing department.

I sat in my wheelchair, staring at my son through the glass. My gaze turned cold and sharp.

Nathan, you will pay back everything you owe me. With interest.